


The Long Way Round

by thisbluespirit



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 5 Times, Crash Landing, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, Lightsabers, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22402489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluespirit/pseuds/thisbluespirit
Summary: Five steps forward in a Master & Padawan relationship.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	The Long Way Round

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragonlingdar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlingdar/gifts).



> I had fun writing this for you - I hope you enjoy it! With thanks to thedarlingone for the Star Wars beta and to Persiflage for checking for any other errors. (All remaining errors are entirely mine.)
> 
> Not EU-compliant (but I trust there's always room for another Legend or two).

**i.**

The astrological chart span round in the centre of the room, the Jedi younglings clustered around it as they answered Master Yoda’s questions. Obi-Wan was among them, studying the images closely before they suddenly faded, leaving him blinking. He turned, as did the rest of them, to see a newcomer standing in the doorway – a Jedi knight. He moved forward, into the centre in place of the stars, a towering figure in contrast to Master Yoda and the children, before he stopped and bowed to Master Yoda.

“That’s Master Qui-Gon Jinn,” one of the others said, from somewhere behind Obi-Wan, eager to show off superior knowledge to their fellows.

Qui-Gon remained on one knee before Yoda. “My apologies, Master, but you wished to see me. I understood it was urgent or I would not have interrupted.”

“Urgent it _was_ , oh, yes,” said Master Yoda. He turned back to the watching younglings. “Wayward and defiant Master Jinn has been. Always the same.” He looked back at Qui-Gon Jinn, pointing his finger towards him. “Too late you are. Sent Master Windu we have.”

Qui-Gon inclined his head before rising. “Then I am sorry. But in this matter my delay was unavoidable.”

“Yes, yes, and always an interesting excuse you had. I remember. This one, share it with us all you shall. Good for the younglings it will be.”

Qui-Gon looked around at the children and rose to his feet. “Of course,” he said, and they all sat down to listen. Obi-Wan felt the wave of anticipation around the room, although even the more difficult of his classmates was careful not to betray too much excitement at this unexpected alternation to a routine class in case Master Yoda decided against it after all. Obi-Wan listened to Master Jinn’s story with careful attention: Qui-Gon had tracked a cache of stolen weapons to Doldur, and finally cornered the thief in a hideaway in the mountains, pointing it out on a new holo map, this time of Doldur.

Obi-Wan listened. Like the rest, he wasn’t sorry to have studies replaced by a tale of adventure, but he frowned over some of the details that puzzled him – they weren’t _right_ – and when he raised his head, he found Master Yoda looking straight at him, as if he could see into his thoughts.

“Young Obi-Wan. Something to say you have?”

“Only a question, Master Yoda,” he said, and then looked up at the Jedi Knight when Yoda gave him the nod. He stood and crossed to the holo map, pointing with his finger. “Wouldn’t this route have been quicker?” 

Qui-Gon only grinned and crouched down in front of him. “True, youngling. But, see here, right in the middle of direct route, a valley with young bantha and a small farm holding. I thought it best not to lead Fral’s rogues across their fields. No point in needlessly endangering them.”

“Wasn’t it a risk?” said Obi-Wan, still frowning. “If those weapons could do what you say, Master. They could have escaped in the extra time.”

“The weapons are where they should be,” Qui-Gon said. “Destroyed.” He glanced over at Master Yoda. “Do you disapprove as well?”

“Make a difference, would it? New, that would be!”

Qui-Gon laughed again, and put a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm lightly. “What’s your name, youngling?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said, and braced himself for a lecture.

Qui-Gon only gave a nod, and patted his head. “Well spotted, then, young Obi-Wan!”

* * *

**ii.**

Not all the younglings who trained at the Temple became Jedi Knights. Some had lower level Force abilities, and some were not suited to the danger of missions, and wound up in one of the support corps. Others failed or couldn’t take the discipline and left altogether. Nothing was certain, as all their tutors told them. So, waiting to be selected as an apprentice to a Jedi was not a foregone conclusion, even for the best of them, and the wait a further test of the level of control over their emotions they should already have mastered. 

Obi-Wan was sure he would be chosen soon; he had already been kept waiting longer than many of the others and, whether it was arrogance or sensitivity to the Force, he didn’t think he would be one of those left to various corps. He was going to be a Jedi knight.

Sometimes at night, though, he wondered if he might be wrong, if they’d decided that he was unsuitable after all. He _had_ argued with Master Yoda the other day, and missed lessons, even if he hadn’t exactly meant to.

He’d never seen Qui-Gon since that lesson years ago, but he’d felt somehow he would one day, and Master Yoda always told them to pay attention to their feelings. He’d never put that together with the question of his apprenticeship until the day that Yoda and Master Windu summoned him, but when he arrived in the council room, Qui-Gon was there, little changed from the figure in his memory, and then some barely understood inner calculation found its conclusion; that of course this was how it must be. 

“Ah, yes,” said Qui-Gon when Obi-Wan approached him. “You were right – I remember now.” He gave Obi-Wan a smile. “You’re the young padawan who pays close attention to the map.”

Obi-Wan’s face heated. “I do have other skills, Master Qui-Gon.”

“Yes, Yoda has been telling me you are remarkably proficient with the lightsaber,” said Qui-Gon, putting a hand to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “We shall see about that later, of course.” 

Obi-Wan felt a sudden, inexplicable sensation of something terribly wrong, of pain – maybe not now, but in the future. It was too vague to pin down, but he took an uncertain step back in his confusion.

Mace Windu turned his head, and Obi-Wan thought maybe he had sensed it too, but all he said was, “I suggest you two take some time to get to know each other.”

“Master Windu,” murmured Qui-Gon in assent, and turned back to Obi-Wan, ushering him out through the door, glancing down at him with a small frown. “There’s really no need to look so nervous, young padawan. I mean you no harm.”

Obi-Wan appreciated the reassurance; it stilled some of the disquiet brought on by that unpleasant sense of the future. But he had no intention of starting out in Qui-Gon’s mind as a nervous map-reader, whatever he might be feeling. He raised his head immediately. “I’m not nervous, Master. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I see,” said Qui-Gon, smiling down at him. “Good. Although to tell the truth, _I’m_ a little nervous – it’s been a long while since I’ve had a new apprentice. Nevertheless, I feel sure it will be an honour. Let us make a start, shall we?” He crouched down and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you again, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan shook it in response, and the last sense of darkness evaporated. He wasn’t sure what it had been, but it wasn’t about this; it wasn’t about him and Qui-Gon here and now. They were going to be all right.

* * *

**iii.**

Their first mission barely counted as one at all; it was a ‘safe’ duty, escorting the Twi’lek Senator back to Ryloth. Exactly the thing for a newly teamed up Jedi Master and apprentice. Or it was supposed to be.

Obi-Wan slowed his pace walking down the empty ship’s corridor, sensing something, some other presence close behind him, lurking in the shadows. And lurking didn’t bode well for anything. He stiffened, bringing his surroundings into sharper focus.

When the lurker moved, Obi-Wan moved, swinging round with his lightsaber to clash with another – and raised his gaze in confusion to see Qui-Gon.

“Good,” said Qui-Gon. “No, don’t stop. Don’t put your lightsaber away. I’m armed – I could easily kill you.” He levelled the glowing blade at Obi-Wan’s throat, and waited for him to make the next move.

Obi-Wan took a step back, stifling a momentary flash of fear and brought his lightsaber up against the other; the fight beginning in earnest, as they matched each other move for move, Jedi reflexes already second nature, and the fight exhilarating. Obi-Wan was alive with the awareness of everything – of Qui-Gon, his next moves, the shifts in the motes of the air, the ship ploughing onwards through hyperspace. There were no other obstacles, though somewhere down the other end of the corridor, he registered a small droid burbling and rolling away from their fight with a hasty squeak. 

Qui-Gon had the advantage of experience, of weight, height and power, but Obi-Wan had the sharpness, agility and confidence of youth. The adrenaline of the challenge flooded through him. At the same time, he could feel where this was heading. Qui-Gon’s advantages counted; his Master measured his pace and his strength easily while Obi-Wan caught his breath, straining with the effort. Qui-Gon was steadily advancing, unafraid, unmoved, his breathing controlled. The end equation was Obi-Wan falling to the ground and Qui-Gon claiming the victory; Obi-Wan could see it, although the thought only made him push back harder.

Qui-Gon waved a hand, flinging Obi-Wan back down the corridor – Obi-Wan had been too focused on the weapons – but he landed on his feet, if not without unsteadiness as the ship made an unexpected turn. He was losing some of his grasp on the things at the periphery, and paying for it. 

Obi-Wan drew in another breath, his heart beating fast as Qui-Gon leapt towards him, suddenly aware of more, of a way to turn the balance around, make his weaknesses strengths, at least for a moment, and the moments were what counted. He readied himself, regaining focus and, even as Qui-Gon brought his lightsaber down again for the blow that should have disarmed him and left him on the cold floor, he took one step back against the wall and then threw himself down, sliding right under Qui-Gon’s legs, waving the nearest cabin door open, and skidding on in through before turning to shut it with another gesture, Qui-Gon shut out on the other side. 

He jumped back onto his feet, but he was breathing harder than he should be, and Qui-Gon would be through that door any moment. Obi-Wan tightened his hold on his lightsaber, palms sweating, and waited, all senses on edge. He registered his surroundings without turning: he was in the ship’s canteen. There were luckily only two diners left, both crew members sitting somewhere behind him at one end of a long table – a human and a Twi’lek. 

As the door opened, Qui-Gon striding in, the two stood. “Jedi,” one of them said in disgust, as he let go of his tray with a clatter.

“My apologies, gentlemen,” said Qui-Gon to them with a smile and a nod, before turning back to Obi-Wan as they left, giving him a brief grin. “Nice move, young padawan.”

Then, before Obi-Wan even had chance to breathe, Qui-Gon thrust forward, knocking his lightsaber out of his hand and kicking him onto the floor beside the nearest table.

Obi-Wan knew a flare of anger at the trick and the humiliation, but closed his eyes, focusing first on something to _do_ , something to use, and raised his hand, flinging the remaining cups and plates at Qui-Gon, along with a chair. One of the tables crashed over behind him.

Qui-Gon laughed, the makeshift missiles dropping harmlessly some distance away from him and moved to stand over Obi-Wan, pointing the lightsaber worryingly close to Obi-Wan’s throat. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, calming the sudden fear and anger that he knew to be irrational, waiting to find out how Qui-Gon would choose to end this. 

“That part was a little less impressive,” Qui-Gon observed, putting his lightsaber away, as Obi-Wan sagged back against the floor. Qui-Gon crouched down beside him, then, and smiled. “Overall, good, however. Well done, my young apprentice. You were alert to the unexpected danger, you held your own for longer than I’d anticipated, and you even turned the tables on me for a moment or two.” He glanced up and around him at the state of the canteen, and his lips twitched at the sight of the tables and chairs Obi-Wan had upended. “Also literally, I see.”

Obi-Wan found his defeat softened by the praise. He sat back up, enjoyment of the fight uppermost again, however it had ended. “I’d just like to know – are you going to try and kill me often, Master, or is it only on while we’re on probation?”

“Never. Quite the reverse, I promise.” Qui-Gon ruffled his hair with a laugh, and then added more softly, “Most of our missions won’t be safe, and the people we’ll be up again won’t hold back and they won’t play fair. And I wanted to see if Master Yoda was right about you.”

“Right about what?”

He merely smiled. “Don’t worry. He was. Now you’d best tidy up this mess.”

Obi-Wan screwed up his face.

“It was your action, and you must live with the consequences of it. I’d hurry if I were you. I hear the ship’s cook is a Rodian with a temper.”

Obi-Wan made sure he stayed sitting until Qui-Gon had he left and then slumped back on the floor with a groan.

* * *

**iv.**

Qui-Gon raced back towards their ship, Obi-Wan tearing along behind him. Almost there, he felt a sense of some other presence, some threat waiting for them at the vessel.

“Master –” he began.

Qui-Gon cut him off with a nod. “Yes, I feel it, too.” He swung round immediately, warding off blaster fire with his lightsaber.

“I don’t think they liked you very much,” said Obi-Wan, his own blade at the ready beside him.

Qui-Gon threw him a look, before holding up a hand, throwing their two pursuers back, giving them a chance to get into the ship, Obi-Wan ahead as he leapt up through the hatch, Qui-Gon close behind him.

“Hurry, Master,” said Obi-Wan scrambling into the cockpit behind him. “There are more of them on the way.” 

Qui-Gon, already at the controls, got the ship’s engines running and they began to lift off under a barrage of blaster fire – nothing too drastic, but enough to damage the ship if somebody got lucky.

“Obi-Wan, can you fix those deflector shields?”

Obi-Wan pulled the panel off in front of him, fiddling with the wires. “I’m afraid not,” he said, surveying the burnt-out state of it. They’d had a bit of trouble on the way in, too.

“In that case, hold on,” said Qui-Gon, as the ship rose into the air, rising steadily at first and then dipping with a sudden lurch and a bang, before starting to gain altitude. The whole ship was shuddering with the effort, and it was all too easy to see its future in pieces on the rocks below.

Obi-Wan gripped the seat. “I think that was the fuel tank. We’re not going to make it – we need to land.”

“Yes, but not here,” said Qui-Gon. “As I said – hold on!”

They pressed on, increasing speed, enough to take them over the approaching mountains instead of straight into them, but Obi-Wan was beginning to lose count of the mounting number of faults and small explosions he could feel multiplying in various parts of the ship, while they roared on over rocky terrain that would offer them no mercy if they crashed. He caught his breath as the ship abruptly swivelled, first upside down, and then sideways, knocking him against the hull, and then back into his chair.

He felt unaccustomed fear growing as the ship sank and rose again, engines spluttering and smoke trailing out behind them in the otherwise clear pink and white sky, and worked first on stifling that. The ship’s faults were out of his power to mend. The R4 unit above was doing its best, but it was only one small droid. He and Qui-Gon were supposed to be the magicians. He swallowed, afraid that Qui-Gon would notice his panic; that this was the end and all he’d feel was his Master’s disappointment in him. 

“Close your eyes,” Qui-Gon said shortly from beside him. “Trust the Force. Trust me, if you can.”

Obi-Wan flushed, but did as Qui-Gon said, and while he could still feel what was happening, not actually seeing the world spinning every few minutes helped. After all, in the scheme of the universe, what was up and what was down? He began to master the fear again with a vague understanding of why it was – that he was finally becoming on the path to becoming a Jedi, being sent out on missions, that he had a Master – he had something to lose for maybe the first time. Something he didn’t _want_ to lose, not yet, not so soon.

He got himself back under control following that realisation, focusing on small things – each repair that R4 succeeded in, a flying creature outside he didn’t even know the name of, but which was thrown out of its nest with an angry squawk as they thundered past too close. And then they dropped out of the sky and he was thrown out of his chair, his focus on almost everything else but their progress on or down or up.

“It’s okay,” shouted Qui-Gon over the noise of the engines and the fall. “I know what I’m –” The ship suddenly came to a premature stop, level with the lower reaches of the mountains, but shivering, unsteady. “Doing.”

Obi-Wan still had his eyes closed and he wasn’t quite sure he was up or down, any more than the universe was, only that he wasn’t in the chair, but he reached out with his mind and understood they had not precisely landed, but were perched on a tree, balanced on wide branches and feathery foliage.

He tried to say something, to prove he hadn’t forgotten all his training, but his mouth was too dry. He didn’t dare try to move yet, and he thought he might be sick. And he should have better control than to be experiencing any of those things. 

“Obi-Wan,” said Qui-Gon beside him, his voice carefully level. “You need to climb out. You can do that. Out of the cockpit, out of the hatch. You can feel the tree beneath us, supporting us. You can get to that.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He understood: he was lighter than Qui-Gon, less likely to disturb the balance of the ship. He found his voice. “You will be able to get out, won’t you?”

“Yes. Now, go!”

Obi-Wan followed his instructions, focusing closely on each movement, on keeping himself in harmony with the tree beneath and the winds that rocked it, so as not to disturb the ship in its precarious cradle. And once he was out of the vessel, hanging onto the branches of something that had roots and wasn’t rocking about alarmingly or threatening to blow up, it was a lot easier to regain the calm that he was supposed to have, even if his stomach was proving more mutinous. 

“It’s all right,” said Qui-Gon, once they were both back on the ground. “Sit down. Get your breath back. It’s all right.”

Obi-Wan was sitting on a grass-tufted ledge, arms around his knees. “It’s not all right,” he made himself say, because there was no way Qui-Gon hadn’t noticed. “I _panicked_.”

“And then you got yourself back under control,” said Qui-Gon, crouching down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder; Obi-Wan felt the reassuring warmth of it, easing his state further. “It’s all right. And I’m not disappointed at all.”

Obi-Wan raised his head at that echo of his earlier fear, but Qui-Gon only gave a distant smile.

“I’ve decided,” Obi-Wan said, his spirits beginning to lift, “I hate flying.” 

“Fair enough.”

He rested his chin on his knees. “Of course, it might just be your piloting skills, Master.”

“Also fair.” Qui-Gon laughed. “Time will tell.”

* * *

**v.**

Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon through the small settlement – a research outpost on Falleen – only to feel the warning rumble of trouble, and threw himself down, only lifting his head to check on Qui-Gon.

“Down,” Qui-Gon shouted to one of the research team, across the track, and then grabbed at something else, something small and alive, before landing beside Obi-Wan while the nearest building exploded, a deafening blast, followed by debris all around them.

When Obi-Wan raised his head again, Qui-Gon was already pulling himself up. “Here,” he said, passing him the creature in his arms. “Stay here. Check for the rest of the research team. And look after that while you’re at it. I’m going to the tower.”

“Alone? But Master –” Obi-Wan stopped, since Qui-Gon had gone, and all he got for his pains was a mouthful of ash and dust. He coughed, and then looked down at the creature in his arms. A Dinko glared back at him.

“I suppose you’re somebody’s pet,” said Obi-Wan. The Dinko was beginning to bristle and wriggle in his hold, small claws hooking into his arms, and when he tried to look around to see where to start with the results of the explosion, the Dinko bit him.

“Well, I don’t like you, either,” he told it, trying to be more careful about keeping his fingers out of its reach. But Qui-Gon had asked him to look after it, so he had better not let it go. He stared, through the dissipating clouds of dust and smoke at the tower that rose above them in the mountains. He had a bad feeling about this. 

Obi-Wan didn’t feel particularly useful here – the survivors had now regrouped themselves, and their medical members could offer more in the way of help than he could. He kept glancing over and upwards at the mountain range, and that tower. Had Qui-Gon just wanted to keep him out of the real danger? The Dinko struggled in his arms again, and as he abandoned thoughts of the tower in trying to calm the wretched thing, it gave him yet another scratch and a sharp nip on his hand. He scowled at it. If someone really had to bring a pet out here, couldn’t it have been something like a Nuna or a Tooke? Even a Bantha would have been better. At least it might have been useful and wouldn’t have tried to savage his ear.

“You found Wen-ri!” A small Togrutan boy ran up to him, tugging impatiently at his robe, while the Dinko strained at his hold, making a keening noise at the sight of the child. Obi-Wan hung on a bit longer, since it seemed too much of a vicious thing to pass to a boy, however much he wanted to be rid of it. 

An adult Togrutan joined them; Obi-Wan recognised her as the team’s meteorologist, Jeyn Kah. He gave her a small smile. “I believe this is your, er, pet?” He tried to hold out the Dinko, but it bit into his fingers again in a sudden fiery rage at being kept at arm’s length from its owner. 

Jeyn Kah nodded, and as the Dinko leapt back down into the child’s arms with a screech of triumph, she gave Obi-Wan an apologetic smile. “We had them for dealing with some of the pests on our last station, but this young one attached itself to Yuoh, and we’ve never been able to separate them since. Funny, isn’t it? I’m so glad you found it. Yuoh would have been distraught. At least this – this is something we’ve salvaged.”

“Yes,” said Obi-Wan. “Although, I wasn’t the one that found Wen-ri. That was my Master, Qui-Gon. And I have a feeling that he’s in trouble. I could use your help.”

“So,” said Qui-Gon, as they sat together on the plain, watching the last of the formidable tower crumble and fall in the distance. “Did you learn anything?”

Obi-Wan studied the scratches and bites on his hands. “I suppose this is the point of that story you told us years ago.”

“If you mean the one I think you mean, it wasn’t a story. It was what happened. And, yes, I suppose – everything is connected. All life is part of the Force. And it’s surprising where small acts of kindness can lead you.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, but I can’t help thinking that if you’d just let me go with you, you wouldn’t have walked into that trap, and then we wouldn’t have needed anybody else’s help. Besides, the Council said we were only here to ensure the outpost was safe and help re-establish communications. I’m pretty sure they said something about leaving that old ruin alone, too.”

“I do remember.”

Obi-Wan said, with deceptive meekness, “I’m sorry, Master. I thought you couldn’t have heard properly, or it had slipped your mind.”

Qui-Gon met his gaze with apparent severity, before laughing. “Perhaps. I think you still have a great deal to learn, my young padawan. However,” he added, “it goes both ways.”

“Master?”

He smiled. “Oh, I feel you will have plenty to teach me in return. You know, I thought perhaps Master Yoda had decided I was not to be entrusted with another padawan, but I see that was only because he had you in mind all along. I suppose that’s what’s been amusing him so much of late.”

“Would you rather have someone else, then?”

Qui-Gon clapped a hand on his shoulder. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Obi-Wan. I’m very pleased you’re here. Not that I wouldn’t have got out of that pit without you, of course.”

“Of course, Master.”

“Besides,” added Qui-Gon, shifting his position, and glancing over at Obi-Wan, “given our quite specific instructions, as you say, why is it that you nevertheless went to the archive to seek out the plans of that tower before we left?”

Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon’s gaze. “My Master keeps telling me I should trust my instincts.” He shrugged. “And I had a very strong feeling about it.”

“I see,” said Qui-Gon with a nod. “Good. Very good indeed.” He then frowned at Obi-Wan’s injuries. “Here, we should see to those. What were you doing to the poor creature?”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Nothing. I just don’t think it liked me much.”

“Then it has poor taste,” said Qui-Gon, as he led Obi-Wan away.


End file.
